Star Wars: Scoundrels (16 page)

Eanjer eyed him closely. “And you’ll let us stay with our plan? You, a law officer, are going to just let us walk in there and rob him?”

“Yes, because I was planning on doing the exact same thing,” Dayja said. “This way, we can pool our resources and information and hopefully help each other.”

“With my group taking all the risks.”

“
And
getting most of the rewards,” Dayja pointed out. “Besides, after that stunt you pulled at the Lulina Crown this evening, I could run you all in right now if I wanted. As you said, a hundred percent of nothing is nothing.”

For a moment they gazed at each other in silence. “All right,” Eanjer said at last. “Let’s hear it.”

“Certainly,” Dayja said, laying his cue on the edge of the table and gesturing toward a row of seats off to the side. “Let’s sit down, and I’ll tell you about a criminal organization known as Black Sun.

“And about their secret and highly lucrative collection of blackmail files.”

H
an stared, feeling his stomach tighten into a hard knot. “You’re joking,” he said flatly.

“Does it
look
like I’m joking?” Eanjer countered. “I know it sounds incredible, and I admit right now that I don’t really know if it’s true. But my informant definitely believes it, and he’s never been wrong yet.”

“And your informant’s name is …?” Tavia prompted.

“Sorry,” Eanjer said. “For the moment I have to keep that confidential.”

“And he’s really sure Villachor’s working with Black Sun?” Dozer asked, his voice dark.

“He is,” Eanjer said. “Though again, I can’t prove that.”

“You don’t have to,” Rachele said quietly. “It’s true.”

Han turned to her, aware that everyone else in the room was doing the same. “You knew?” he demanded. “And didn’t tell us?”

“I didn’t
know
,” she said, a little defensively. “But like everyone else in the Wukkar upper strata, I’ve suspected the connection for several years. When you came to me with Eanjer’s problem—” She hunched her shoulders. “I hoped we were all wrong, I guess. That Villachor was just an ordinary, local criminal slime.”

“Actually, this makes a lot of sense,” Lando said thoughtfully. “Not who Villachor is, but that the core of Black Sun’s political power comes from blackmailing high-level officials. Much easier and cheaper than having to buy them off.”

“And keeping those files in a set of portable data cards is just perfect,” Bink agreed. “Even if one of Xizor’s enemies managed to get through all the scared officials running interference for him and tried to grab them, he wouldn’t even know where to start looking.”

“Any idea how many cards there are in the set?” Han asked.

“My contact says there are supposed to be five, tucked away in some kind of fancy hand-enameled wooden box that no one outside Black Sun has ever seen,” Eanjer said. “The whole thing should be small enough to fit in a satchel or even a hip pouch. Like Bink says, easily portable.”

“It explains the cryodex, too,” Winter said. “Perfect, unreadable encryption, and the only time you need to bring the two together is when you want to show someone the specific dirt you have on them.”

“So why keep the cryodex in a downtown hotel instead of in Villachor’s vault with the files themselves?” Zerba asked. “Bink just proved how much less secure it is there.”

“Like I said: keeping them apart means no one knows where to go looking,” Bink said. “You always want to keep the key and the lock away from each other if you can.”

“And in this case, no one even knows what they’re looking for,” Eanjer added. “I’m pretty sure even my informant doesn’t have the slightest idea there’s a cryodex involved.”

“There may be another reason for keeping the cryodex there,” Han said, a new and interesting idea starting to form in the back of his mind. If the cryodex was being kept away from Villachor’s place because the Falleen didn’t trust him, an entirely different angle might be opening up in front of them. “Winter, could you make us a cryodex of our own? Not one that works, just something that looks right?”

“Certainly,” Winter said, eyeing him thoughtfully. “It would be a relatively simple modification of an old Comp600 datapad, assuming we can find one.”

“Bound to be a few around town somewhere,” Rachele said. “I’ll hunt one down for you.”

“Wait a second,” Tavia spoke up warningly. “If you’re thinking what I
think
you’re thinking, the answer is no. Bink’s not going back in there. Not after Kell and Zerba’s little bouncy-ball game out in the hallway.”

“Too bad she didn’t grab it when she could,” Kell murmured.

“She couldn’t,” Tavia said. “The power sensors, remember?”

“She could have pulled out the power cell.”

“We didn’t know, it’s too late now, and we’re not going to talk about it,” Han said firmly.

“And it wouldn’t have mattered if she had,” Lando said. “Half an hour after the cryodex disappeared, the files would have been off Wukkar and heading back to Imperial Center.”

“At least they wouldn’t have been able to use the files against anyone else,” Kell pointed out.

“Of course they would,” Lando scoffed. “You think Xizor’s dumb enough to keep all his barks in one kennel? He’s bound to have a backup cryodex squirreled away somewhere.”

“There was only one reported stolen,” Winter reminded him.

Lando shrugged. “So?”

“Which is why we’re going to concentrate on the files and not the cryodex,” Han said. “Tavia, how fast could you put together a full-spec spit-mitter, and how small could you make it?”

Tavia shrugged. “Couple of days. How small do you need it?”

“The size of a data card,” Han said.

“That’s pretty small,” Tavia said, frowning off into space. “But I think I can make it work. Of course, for something that size the receiver will have to be pretty close. A hundred meters, maybe less.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Han assured her. “Now—”

“What’s a full-spec spit-mitter?” Eanjer asked.

“Full-spectrum sensor cluster with integrated recorder and burst transmitter,” Bink told him. “You slip one inside the place you want to burgle, and it spits you out the relevant details about security, guard stations, and everything else. If you pick your frequency right, the signal will slip right through the target’s sensor-block fields.”

“And by sending it in a short burst you don’t have to worry about a transmission net catching it,” Tavia added, her eyes steady on Han. “Of course, it
does
have to be inside the vault to do any good. You got some idea how to pull that off?”

“I’m working on it,” Han assured her. “Okay. First job is to find out what these data cards look like. Rachele, you said you knew some of the people who’ve been going in and out of Marblewood over the past few days. Anyone there you might be able to get talking?”

“I don’t think so,” Rachele said, wrinkling her nose. “Most of them I only know by sight.”

“I may know one of them,” Eanjer offered. “What were some of the names?”

“Well, there was Tark Kisima,” Rachele said, her eyes defocusing slightly as she thought back. “He was one of the first. I also saw Alu Cymmuj, Donnal Cuciv—”

“Donnal Cuciv—I know him,” Eanjer interrupted.

“Who is he?” Dozer asked.

“The man in overall charge of incoming passenger and shipping lists at the Iltarr City Spaceport,” Rachele said. “Supposed to be a pretty upright citizen. I wonder what Villachor has on him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eanjer said. “I know him, and I’m sure I can get him to talk to me.”

“Can you get him to talk about the data cards without tipping him off?” Han asked.

“
Especially
without him going straight to Villachor about it?” Lando added.

“Leave it to me,” Eanjer said, standing up.

“Sure,” Han said, frowning. It couldn’t possibly be this easy. Could it? “Chewie, Dozer—you go with him.”

“No,” Eanjer said, shaking his head. “Sorry, but I need to do this alone. Donnal’s a very private person. He’s not going to say a single word if there’s anyone there except me.”

“You should at least have someone along for the ride,” Rachele said. “You’re probably still on Villachor’s hunt list.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to stay out of Villachor’s way,” Eanjer said, his voice edged with bitterness. “I’ll be fine.”

Han looked at Chewbacca, but the Wookiee just rumbled a reluctant agreement. “Just make sure you keep your comlink on,” Han said. “And call if you even
think
there might be a problem. You said this informant of yours doesn’t know about the cryodex?”

“Correct,” Eanjer said. “Actually, I don’t think he’s got the slightest idea how the system works. All he knows is that the files are probably here, and if they are, then Qazadi’s got them.”

“Good,” Han said. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Right.” Eanjer turned and headed toward the door.

“Just a minute,” Dozer said suddenly. “Before he goes, I want to get something straight.”

“Sure,” Han said, motioning for Eanjer to stop. “What?”

Dozer’s lips compressed. “I want to make sure we’re all still in this together,” he said. “I mean, we’re talking
Black Sun
. That’s not what any of us signed up for.”

“Fair enough,” Han agreed, looking around the room. And here was where it all either held together or fell apart. “Anyone want to say something?”

There was a brief silence. “There’s still a hundred sixty-three million in the vault, right?” Bink asked at last.

“Of course,” Eanjer said.

“Then we’re still in,” Bink said. She nudged her sister. “Right?”

Tavia didn’t look very happy, but she gave a dutiful nod. “Right.”

“Plus whatever the blackmail files are worth,” Winter spoke up. “Depending on who we can attract as a buyer, that could easily triple our final take.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Zerba said.

“Me too,” Kell seconded.

Han looked at Lando, who nodded silently. “That just leaves you, Dozer,” he said. “If you’re having trouble with this, now’s the time to say so.”

Dozer’s gaze flicked around the room. Then, lowering his eyes, he hissed a breath out between his teeth. “No,” he said reluctantly. “If everyone else is on board, I guess I am, too.”

“You don’t have to be,” Han said. “You want to bail, no one’s stopping you.”

“No,” Dozer said, more firmly this time. “Besides, I need the credits.”

“So we’re settled?” Eanjer said impatiently. “Wonderful. Can I go now?”

Han waved permission. Eanjer turned back to the door, and a moment later was gone.

“We’d better get to work on that spit-mitter,” Bink said, standing up and motioning Tavia to follow. “Chewie, you want to give us a hand?”

The Wookiee warbled assent, and the three of them headed to the twins’ room for Tavia’s gear. As if their departure had been the signal for the party to break up, Winter, Kell, Rachele, and Zerba also rose from their seats, said a mutual round of good-nights, and headed toward their own rooms. Dozer followed behind them, not speaking to anyone as he made his brooding exit.

Leaving Han and Lando alone.

“He didn’t sound convinced,” Lando commented.

“He’ll be okay,” Han said, peering off in the direction Dozer had gone. But Lando was right. Dozer was running shaky—shakier than Han had ever seen him. “That thing with the Falleen has him a little rattled, that’s all.”

“You know him pretty well?”

“Well enough,” Han said, looking back at Lando. “I thought you knew him, too.”

Lando shrugged, gently swirling the remains of his drink. “We’ve crossed paths a couple of times, but that’s about it. Zerba I only worked with once, on that Tchine thing. Winter and Kell I don’t know at all.”

“Mazzic recommends them.”

“Mazzic’s been wrong before.”

“They’re okay,” Han insisted. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I like it here.” Lando smiled faintly. “Besides, you need me.”

Han thought about denying it. But unfortunately, it was the truth. “So what have you been up to lately?”

“Not much,” Lando said, waving a hand vaguely. “Winning some, losing some. You?”

Han shrugged.
I picked up some crazy passengers, rescued a princess, fought stormtroopers and TIE fighters, helped save the galaxy, and got my reward snatched right off my ship by pirates
. “Not much,” he said aloud. “Why are you here?”

“Rachele said you invited me.”

“Yeah. Why are you here?”

Lando pursed his lips. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about … you know. All the stuff that went down between us. I’ve been thinking that maybe it wasn’t as much your fault as I thought at the time. That it wasn’t so much you deliberately stiffing us, but more like you just being rotten at picking the people you could trust.”

Han grimaced. “Yeah. I have that problem sometimes,” he admitted.

“I’ve noticed.” Lando nodded toward the door. “How well do you know this Eanjer character?”

“Met him for the first time eight days ago. But Rachele looked into his story. Seems solid enough.”

“Did he ever mention that Villachor was Black Sun?” Lando asked pointedly. “Or did that part somehow get forgotten?”